Thursday, April 25, 2013

Saturday, March 16, 2013: Death of a Vampire

I found the bottom of the coke bag
I found it
I had been searching and searching
Old faces replaced by new ones
Friends becoming strangers
Succubus takes shelter
Knowing I’m a lonely vampire
With a weakness for things young, wild, and free
His garlic filled seaman and cold silver touches
Crippled me
I found shelter in the dark-

Up late nights thirsting for his sweet bitter blood
Addicted to him
Drowning myself in snow falling from porcelain plates
Shoveling my way with used QT straws
No angels to be made
Just cold
Too cold
Too dark
Too old am I to be here.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

2 sum it up 42313

I sometimes wished things could go back to when we got along
Spending Saturday mornings together
Stretched out on the living room floor
Watching cartoons under our homemade tents
Created from fitted sheets and box fans
We were brothers then.

I sometimes wished things could go back to when we got along
Before mama talked shyt about our daddy
Saying he was cheap and no good and a junk collector
Damaging the possibility of us knowing him better
While we were brothers and he was our father
Too young to know what was the matter.

I sometimes wished things could go back to when we got along
Before your “friends” from the heights told you I was a faggot
Teasing you for having a sweet younger brother named Brenda
Embarrassing and shaming you; you didn’t know better
They didn’t know better but hurling
Harmful words and fisted blows didn’t change a thing.

Karma is a bitch
We may not be as close as we should but we’re still brothers
And I pray no one teased his daughter the way he teased me
And I hope you both understand and know I never made the
Decision to be who I am anymore than you made the choice
Of having me as your little brother

Love always,

PS:  I don't think we turned out too bad.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

i've got dreams to remember

i’m often forgetting things
i guess that comes with age
but then again it may come from
too many distractions
people’s problems that
you make your own
like finding roaches in your new home
some problems you just don’t need in your life

i’ve stroked your ego for far too long
listening to your stories often imagined
and unreal
i guess i wanted to be the only constant in your
the rock you could cling to
never knowing i would be tossed
across a pond of lies, deception and
hungry catfish
they’ll eat anything

this morning i woke up
in my bed alone
your things still in my closet
i didn’t bother to pack them this time
for some reason you’ve just become
less important
i have dreams to rescue
like a mother realizing her child
is about to be swept away in an ocean’s under current
i can no longer be distracted by this simple shyt
my drowning dreams need me
and so does the world